


There Was Always Warmth Between Us

by oppressa



Category: The Cabin in the Woods (2011)
Genre: Elevator Sex, F/M, Implied Voyeurism, Male-Female Friendship, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 00:22:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oppressa/pseuds/oppressa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's close in the elevator, with Dana held tight against his chest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Was Always Warmth Between Us

**Author's Note:**

> An entry I wrote for last year's Porn Battle. The prompts I used were 'embrace' and 'tease'.

They are going down now and Dana's going crazy, hammering at glass that will never break but is still the only thing separating them from all the monsters. Marty's backed against the opposite wall in the grip of full-force paranoia, eyes skirting the ceiling. The camera must be in here somewhere. Has to be.  
  
He suddenly wants whoever's watching to stop getting off on this, using her pain and despair for their entertainment.  
  
Calling her name fails, she won't listen. He grabs her hand as she swings it back and when she turns around she looks for a moment like she might turn _on_ him, so he probably just served their fucking purpose, because wouldn't _that_ be the best ending ever.  
  
“Dana.” He says, folding her fingers into his. He can't ask her to calm down or promise it's going to be okay. “Save some energy, huh? For what's down there.”  
  
'There' is kind of a nebulous concept for now, even if it makes him sick in the pit of his stomach.  
  
“This is so fucked.” She whispers, falling across the small space towards him. “How could anyone...why would you _do_ this…”  
  
He doesn't know. _You figured everything_ , she'd said, except he didn't, and still hasn't worked out whether he was meant to. Fucking puppeteers and shit. He closes his eyes and groans, hoping they haven't been found yet.  
  
She fastens her arms around him, saying “Marty,” sharply, and then more softly, “D'you have any more of those joints?”  
  
He sort of coughs rather than laughs, but he unfreezes. Dana's so good. Their foreheads press together and she kisses him in a determined way, cradling his neck where he's covered in blood and sweat and earth from being dragged through the dirt.  
  
He blinks, thinking wildly about chemicals in the air, disembodied voices, but there's nothing engineered here, just his friend he's always tried to convince himself had too kind a smile to be hot and really, who the fuck was he kidding about that.  
  
“Pretty sure we're on some big fricking screen.” He croaks. It's close in the elevator, with Dana held tight against his chest.  
  
“I'm not showing them anything.” She says, casting a meaningful glance at the panels above them.  
  
Her shirt stays on as he slides his hands inside, fingers skimming the clasp of her bra before curling under the wire. Her breasts fit his palms and he wants to check them out so bad. 'Touch but don't look' doesn't suck quite as much as 'look don't touch', though he can't help wondering about the colour of her underwear and stuff, then remembers it isn't him Dana was supposed to be hooking up with this weekend.  
  
“I haven't done this much.” She admits ruefully.  
  
He's going to say 'me neither' but honestly Marty can't recollect a whole lot of what he has or hasn't done. Most of it he did on pot although there were definitely chicks that let him penetrate and he thinks he even found a girl's clit once or twice but anyway. It all seems strangely disengaged from Dana rolling her hips into him, potential sex bound up with the feeling it's a really bad idea, the knowledge that they have a fucking _warped_ audience. His own messed-up head twists those misgivings into something almost _good_.  
  
“Aw, hey, Dana,” He begins, and then her wrist starts rubbing him through his jeans, and he just gasps and fucking _ruts_ against her, or some shit, oh fuck.  
  
Dana shakes her head and doesn't let up, using the heel of her hand hard and the roughness coming from her nearly kills him. His knees cave to press into it while he catches at her waist, the buttoned front of her pants. It takes him a second to realise she's lost her balance and all the pressure's on her crotch, but she doesn't appear to mind, bucking and moaning as he lowers them onto the floor, pushing with his feet to keep away from the zombie remains.  
  
The camera films them intertwined, his jeans slipping as he forgets himself, her shoulders arching as she strains to exchange another kiss with him. Fixing him at the mouth, since they're so tangled up otherwise. He grunts frustratedly being beneath her and Dana wails when he flips them, both overreacting to what's basically really rushed humping, but fuck it. They're just kids and someone saw fit to put them through this, they might've survived thus far only to die upon the doors opening, therefore he totally doesn't care.  
  
Dana's on top when they reach the bottom, shielding him with her body as the gun cocks.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _Sidewalk Where She Walks_ by Alexisonfire/ Vonnegut's _Long Walk to Forever_


End file.
